


And miles to go (before I sleep)

by Bohemian (Linguam)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: #SaveShadowhunters, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, morning run, soft boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 01:10:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16075232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linguam/pseuds/Bohemian
Summary: By the time Alec finally leaves the Institute, it’s almost five a.m.





	And miles to go (before I sleep)

**Author's Note:**

> Idk I'm just tired, you guys

By the time Alec finally leaves the Institute, it’s almost five a.m.

Fatigue clings to him like something tangible, filling his head with cotton and causing his shoulders to droop. His eyes itch and he feels bruised, as if he’s been in the field for the last twenty-odd hours and not stuck at the office. Since he became Head, Alec is quickly learning that few things are as draining as dealing with bureaucracy and being stuck staring at papers all day; add to that not one, not two, but _three_ instances of various Clave officials questioning his leadership and Alec is sure he has found entirely new levels of exhaustion.

Looking at the pinkish, predawn sky, all he wants is to be in bed and cuddle his sleep-warm boyfriend. That need is the only thing encouraging his heavy limbs to make the trek to Brooklyn.

When he eventually finds his way to the loft, though, his body might be desperate to sleep, but his mind is buzzing with the echoes of the day’s input. He knows that if he gets into bed now, all he will accomplish is waking Magnus with his tossing and turning.

Giving an internal sigh of frustration, he sneaks into the bedroom and carefully extracts a set of tracker pants from one of the bureaus, throwing furtive and longing glances at the bed and its occupant.

Less than two minutes later, he’s jogging down the streets of Brooklyn.

It must have been raining sometime during the night, because the ground is wet. Every water-filled crease in the asphalt shines like a pearl as the sun begins to move higher upon a faded blue sky, breathing warmth and life into a sleeping world. New York might be the city that never _truly_ sleeps, but the few people Alec meets hardly look awake, either.

Asphalt gives way to earth and he finds himself in Prospect Park. Inhaling deeply, Alec can almost imagine tasting those invisible pockets of fresh water that always seem to permeate the air after a downpour. Dew covers the grass like a field of shimmering crystals, the drops clinging to the leaves and branches glittering like an Angel’s tears. There are a handful of other joggers, a few people out walking their dogs. It’s quiet, almost serene, in a way, and the peacefulness of it washes over Alec’s overactive mind like a balm.

By the time he makes it back to the loft, breath sawing through his lungs and throat, there is an invisible tremble running through his entire body. He feels sore to the bone, and the climb up the stairs is nothing short of torturous; but it’s all worth it minutes later when he, after a quick shower even by his standards, is finally, _finally,_ able to crawl into bed.

The mattress dips under him, molding itself around his weight, the silk sheets brushing against his bare skin and causing him to shiver. It’s warm and soft and achingly familiar and, exhaling deeply, entire body humming with contentment, Alec decides right there that this is, without contest, his absolute favorite place to be.

“Alexander?”

A soft, barely-audible exhale rather than an actual question. Alec reaches out and blindly pulls Magnus close, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Magnus hums sleepily. His hand finds its way to Alec’s still damp chest.

“’S it raining outside?” He nuzzles into the crook of Alec’s neck. His next words are muffled nearly to incomprehension. “Could’ve portaled you…”

Alec snorts softly, although his chest warms with fondness.

“No, I went for a run. Just came out of the shower.”

He can almost physically _feel_ confusion starting to pierce through the heavy veil of sleep enveloping Magnus’s mind.

“Did something happen?”

Magnus was well-aware, albeit completely uncomprehending, of Alec’s habit of going for morning runs—whenever he himself wasn’t awake to convince him of _other_ ways to get his morning cardio—but they usually occurred _after_ at least five hours of sleep. Considering how Alec has used training as a—oftentimes destructive—outlet in the past, the question isn’t exactly unwarranted.

Alec closes his eyes and presses his face into Magnus’s hair. Every inhale, of sandalwood and sunshine and spices tinged with honey, sends waves of calm pulsing through his entire body.

“Just a long day,” he mumbles. “We can talk about it in the morning.”

Never mind the fact that morning is, technically, already upon them. Magnus doesn’t acknowledge anything earlier than ten—or, on rare occasions, nine—to be a humane time to be awake anyway.

A warm puff of air against his throat.

“You sure?”

Alec exhales heavily, sinking deeper into the bed and Magnus’s embrace.

“Yeah.” Sleep just around the corner. “I’m sure.”

Magnus nuzzles into him, humming. When darkness comes to take him moments later, Alec lets it.

He sleeps. Warm and relaxed and content.

His mind blessedly quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> #SaveShadowhunters


End file.
